Understanding Autism

By Lori Rakieski

UNDERSTANDING AUTISM allows for a greater understanding of autistic children and their families. This book is a very practical guide, spoken in plain English for the rest of us! It is for anyone who may ever come into contact with autistic children; and being that the autistic are unrecognizable at first glance, this book is for everyone!
Parents can get so much helpful information from co-author, Lori Rakieski, who has 4 autistic children of her own. Police, Firefighters and other Emergency Personnel can learn invaluable information on how to find lost autistic children and how to deal with them when they encounter them. Social Workers, Caretakers, Teachers, and Physical and Sensory Therapists can use this book to better understand the parents' perspective in what they are going through.

This book has many pages of sincere, heartfelt and valuable information that will help autistic children to live normal lives, while enabling society, in general, come to understand and have greater patience for the autistic.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Prominent Books, LLC
• Release date: Nov 25, 2014
• ISBN: 9781310250415

Book preview

Introduction

Proud Parents

The birth of a child is miraculous, and the experience breathtaking. If you’ve been there, you know what I mean. If you’re expecting your first child, you have much to look forward to in this experience.

The typical fears that haunt parents during the carrying months of whether their child will be healthy, normal and perfect in every way are innate to the process. First observations peer to see that everything is in the right place and the fingers and toes contain sets of five. Perfect!

The initial gasp of earthly air and the release of that first cry conclude that all is well. And the worry that rested at the back of one’s lobes for the past nine months quickly dissipate into sheer excitement.

A mother giving birth longs to finally hold and make contact with the child she has carried under her heart for nine months. This feeling of anticipation is difficult to describe as life cannot be compared with physical possessions for analogies.

My Mitchell was born September 8, 1997. He was my firstborn. I remember crying and thinking to myself, thank God for my son, as I held him in my arms. Dan, my husband, wrapped him tightly in a blanket and took him out of the room to meet his new grandparents who were eagerly waiting outside the door.

After a short while Dan brought him back in, laid him in my arms and bragged how our new son, Mitchell Dennis Rakieski, was going to be a star quarterback. Football, you see, is my husband's favorite sport and he had always dreamed of playing this sport with his sons. He often joked about our son playing for the Steelers – his favorite team.

I was so happy to be a mother. This was all I wanted in life. I often said if I had to fail everything in life but be told I was a good mother, then I accomplished all I ever wanted.

My husband is a very sweet, loving, patient man who wanted a large family just like me. We planned on this since the early days of our relationship and living happily ever after.

Mitchell achieved all of the milestones of a typical child. He rolled over at four months, sat up at six months, crawled at nine months and walked at fourteen months. He babbled a lot as a baby and a toddler. This babbling and not talking recognizable words would be the first sign something was wrong.

My Alex was born October 31, 1998. He was my birthday present. I found out I was pregnant with him on my 28th birthday, February 26, 1998. Mitchell was only five months old. I called Dan at work to give him the news, You are going to be a father again! He yelled and screamed to his co-workers, I am going to be a dad again! Didn't your wife just have a baby? they asked. It didn't matter. Our dream for a big family was coming true.

When our second son, Alexander Richard, was born, I felt proud and happier than I have ever been in my life. I realized that I finally had a wonderful husband and an excellent beginning to a large family.

When Alex was born no one made it to the hospital in time; he was born so quickly. It was Halloween at 3:30 in the afternoon. Dan was finally able to contact my parents. My mom was shopping at JC Penney and was paged to come to the phone where she was told (by my future sister-in-law) she was going to be a grandmother again. My dad was rabbit hunting.

Everyone did eventually arrive at the hospital, including my dad who came with two mum plants – two plants for two kids. My mom came to the hospital with Mitchell. He was crawling around the room. Then when my mother held him up to see his new brother, Mitchell looked at him and said kitty. This was a word Mitchell had just learned.

Alex, like Mitchell, achieved all the milestones of any typical child. He rolled over at four months, sat up at five months, crawled at five months and walked at fourteen months but he said very few words. It was at twenty months that these few words stopped altogether and when I came to gravely suspect something might be wrong.

Still unaware of the circumstances with Mitchell and Alex, I was flying higher than a kite being the mother of two beautiful children and the wife of a loving husband. All seemed perfect and well on the way to having a big happy family.

When Alex was one year old and Mitchell two years old, we decided to try for another baby. It was October 11, 1999 that I found out I was pregnant again. Dan and I were elated. It was at this time that we stumbled upon a house in St. Marys, PA.

The house was old but very spacious, just perfect for a big family to live in. A five bedroom house with a backyard made things that much more exciting as we continued to move toward our familial goal. The neighbors even had four children right around the boys’ age.

At the bottom of my heart I hoped deeply for a little girl. Another boy, of course, would have been just fine with me. But a girl to be close to simply because of the connection between females – similar to the unique bond that had grown between Dan and the boys out of sheer masculinity – would have been wonderful.

My little girl, Danielle, was born on June 27, 2000. She came three days past her due date and was my biggest baby thus far – eight pounds, thirteen ounces. In the delivery room Dan looked at her and said, My beautiful baby girl. She had short black hair with a very round face – she was perfect! I couldn’t wait for her brothers to meet her.

Danielle was a very quiet, easygoing baby. She rarely cried but did babble, say some words but her vocabulary did not advance past baby-talk. She, too, achieved the milestones of a typical young child – rolling over at 4 months, sitting up at 5 and walking at 10 months. She would follow her older brothers around the house eagerly wanting to join them in play. Danielle always had a smile on her face. But at around 18 months of age, Dan and I noticed a change in her personality. The change was so dramatic and noticeable that we feared something might be wrong.

Back in May of 2000, about one month before Danielle was born, I had taken Mitchell and Alex to the pediatrician for check-ups. It was at this time that the doctor felt Mitchell’s language should have been more discernable and recommended he see a speech therapist. Being eight months pregnant, I felt Mitchell could wait until after I had the baby to see a therapist. Mitchell was 2 ½ years old and was babbling like a baby. I was concerned at what the doctor had said, but not alarmed.

After Danielle was born I contacted the Early Intervention office. It was now July. They sent someone out to the house to evaluate Mitchell. The service coordinator had decided that since Mitchell would be three years old in a couple of months, it would be more beneficial for him to move on to the age three special education preschool. (Early Intervention only works with children from birth to three years of age).

The paperwork was enormous and very tedious. But on September 19, 2000, Mitchell started preschool as recommended. My plan was for him to attend this school for one year and then take him to a regular Catholic preschool in town after that. He needed help with his speech, so I thought.

At about this time, Alex’s incidence of talking had dropped significantly to the point of being almost non-extant. He would go days without saying a word. He also began to bang his head against the wall and floor out of frustration when he couldn’t get across what he wanted. He would freefall down the stairs and climb the bookcases in our living room. I remember saying to Dan that this was not right and that something was wrong with Alex. Alex is just active my family would say. I sensed there was more but I couldn’t figure out what it was.

As the months rolled by I noticed a significant difference in Mitchell’s speech. He was finally saying some sentences, repeating words, pointing to objects and saying what they were. I was very happy with his progress. At the same time, I was bewildered why he could not answer a question or carry on a conversation. I would ask him, What did you do in school today? yet he would not acknowledge the questions at all. I also noticed this in Alex as well, and Alex would give very little eye contact. Sometimes it seemed as though he were deaf. This worried me a great deal but since it was happening to both of them, I thought it was a normal part of the developing process.

Danielle at this time was rolling over, looking at me and smiling while babbling baby talk. She would watch whomever entered and exited the room and showed that she was aware of her surroundings.

Not long into Mitchell’s term, the special education preschool called me and asked if Dan and I would meet with them. We were told that Mitchell was not participating with the other children. It seemed he did not know what to do with toys. He would throw them or hold them up and let them drop to the floor. His teacher and therapist noticed very little imaginative or purposeful play. They also were concerned about his poor eye contact and how he would spin in circles if there was a change in the routine of the classroom.

They told Dan and I that they would like to have a psychologist come in and give them some ideas of how to get Mitchell to participate in school better. Dan and I agreed to the psychologist’s consultation.

Being that Dan and I only thought Mitchell had poor speech skills and that his behavior in the classroom was connected in some way with this, the situation didn’t seem too alarming or serious to us. But little did we know that the school was consulting a professional over greater concerns – to confirm their theories as to why Mitchell had been exhibiting so many different behaviors. We were not made privy to their considerations in our meeting with the preschool. So we left simply thinking our Mitchell had poor speech skills. Oh how I wish it would have been that simple.

The psychologist visited the school and observed Mitchell on February 8, 2001. She called me that afternoon asking if she could come over the next day at 1:30pm. February 9th would become a major turning point in my life. It would change me forever.

Getting the News

When the psychologist arrived, Mitchell, Alex and Danielle were all napping. The house was quiet. She proceeded to tell Dan and me how the visit went at school. She spoke very slowly, sort of hedging, and I could tell she had more to say than what she was disclosing. She said that she noticed Mitchell sitting alone most of the time and commented how poor his eye contact was. Then, all at once she looked straight into my eyes and asked, Have you ever heard of autism? I answered Yes. She then blurted out, Well I think Mitchell has this.

I was shocked and felt warm tears quickly well in my eyes. She then proceeded to read off a long list of characteristics of autism. I watched her through my warped vision as I tried to keep my tear-filled eyes from letting go. I listened to her but absorbed very little of what she was saying. The word autism just stuck in my mind and I couldn’t let go of it. Dan and I said nothing as she stood up and left our home. As the door closed behind the psychologist, Dan and I realized that the life we had (or thought we were creating) was gone at that moment.

It was time for Dan to leave for work. He looked at me in despair and walked out the door. As he left, the tears started falling. I cried and wailed out loud like I never had before in my life. I then looked up autism on the Internet and began reading. Between the falling tears I read all about this subject. As I read and sobbed, in through the door came Dan. He couldn’t make it to work that day.

We held each other and cried. As we wept we both, at the same time, realized that this was probably what was wrong with Alex also.

We called our pediatrician and spoke with him about the possibility. He referred us to the Children’s Hospital in Pittsburgh. It took four months to get an appointment but we needed to confirm, or annul, what we already knew in our hearts was the case.

The four months we waited for the appointment were painful. I could not eat, sleep or work. My heart was broken and the grief consumed me.

We brought Mitchell and Alex to the Children’s Hospital in Pittsburgh, PA on 6-27-01 this was Danielle's first birthday. They were both officially diagnosed with having autism on this date.

After Dan and I received the heartbreaking diagnosis of autism for our two beautiful boys, we wrestled with the thought of possibly not having